Prompts: Hit Wizard, Snitchnip.
Pairing/Genre: Viktor/Ron – humour, PWP, fluff.
Word Count: 4,368
Warnings: Scenes of explicit sexual nature, PWP, semi-public sex,
A/N: Forgive the pure smuttiness and fluffiness of it all. I usually like to write intricate plots and a fair share of angst, but with this one, for some reason, all I could think was PWP. And it was mighty fun to write it! :D
Need to see you right now. Emergency!
Ron was on his feet and in his warm robes in less time than it took a normal person to get out of a chair. He had been on pins and needles the whole day as it was, expecting a letter of similar content – as he always was on game days – and nearly had a conniption when a familiar dark-brown fat owl landed on his desk. (Ron would question how in the world it got all the way down to the Second Level, but the owl had a creepy ability to get anywhere it pleased and vanish into thin air, no matter how ridiculous a place.)
Viktor never wrote on game days. Granted, they’ve only been going out three months, but Ron quickly learned that when it came to Quidditch, Viktor was dead serious. He practiced almost all of his free time, and he never distracted himself with anything like writing letters. The only letters Ron was constantly expecting with a lump in his throat when he couldn’t attend the games were ones from St.Mungo’s.
He ran out of his office with the word “emergency” in his head. Was he hurt? Did he fall off his broomstick? He was obviously well enough to write himself, but for Viktor Krum to say emergency was so bizarre Ron was imagining the Quidditch pitch opening up and swallowing all of its players.
Harry looked up at him with surprise when Ron burst into his office.
“Have you been listening to the Quidditch game, by any chance?” he blurted out.
“Um… No, mate. Never do.” There was amusement behind Harry’s eyes. He was one person who never let a chance by to tease Ron of the “fateful irony” that was him and Viktor ending up together. But this wasn’t the time.
“I just got a letter from Viktor saying there was an emergency and he needed to see me immediately. And it’s game day!”
“What kind of emergency?” Harry frowned. “Is he hurt?”
“It didn’t say. It’s his writing, so he could obviously write himself, but you know Viktor, Harry! He wouldn’t just write something like that if it wasn’t serious.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know him quite as well as you know him,” Harry teased and Ron blushed, “but if he wrote it himself, it means he must be more or less ok. Where does it say he wants you to come? St.Mungo’s?”
“It doesn’t say!” Ron let out an exasperated groan.
“Well,” Harry said, looking down at his papers again, “why don’t you go see the Department of Magical Games and Sports? They would be able to tell you the outcome of the game.”
When there was no answer, Harry looked up to see Ron gone. He shook his head and smiled. He had seen Ron and Hermione and he had seen Hermione and Viktor, but Ron and Viktor seemed to be the best match. He and Hermione were in absolute agreement of that.
St.Mungo’s. Victor’s flat. His own. The Burrow. Nothing.
It was always like that with Viktor. Ron constantly found himself wandering what the other was thinking, and Viktor never gave him much to go on, almost assuming it was evident. Viktor was the calm one in the relationship, and had told Ron after he kissed him for the first time that he “needed some chaos in his life”. Ron would hardly call himself chaos, but beside Viktor, he did come off much more excitable and outgoing than he actually was.
The Quidditch field was his last stop. Some of the fans were still milling around in the stands waiting for the last players to come out of the change rooms, and there were a few players on the field speaking with journalists, but otherwise it was evident that the game had ended a good while ago. Ron spotted an attendant and rushed over to him.
“Ron Weasley, isn’t it?” the attendant fired before Ron had a chance to even open his mouth. “What a pleasure! I’ve read all about you in last month’s Daily Prophet!”
Ron blushed and cursed Ginny inwardly. As a Quidditch correspondent, she had thought it would be amusing to put a story on the legendary Seeker’s new romance into the newspaper. When Ron saw it, he wanted to kill her, though Viktor seemed content.
“Don’t vorry about it too much,” he told Ron. “It’s a compliment. I don’t mind if people know.” Ron thought it wise not to mention that people teased him at work about it for weeks and he didn’t know whether he was as comfortable.
“I’m looking for Viktor,” Ron mumbled, not looking the attendant in the face. The other man was studying him way too closely for comfort. “Is he ok?”
“Of course!” The attendant grinned. “They won the game!”
“And he’s not hurt?” Ron asked eagerly, but at that moment a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around so easily he could’ve been weightless.
“Finally,” Viktor growled, and dragged Ron towards the change rooms.
He was still wearing his Quidditch robes – dirty and torn in a few places – and looked furious. Ron tried to get a word in, but was deafened by the screams of the fans that surrounded them as soon as they saw them. Viktor maneuvered through them easily, while Ron stumbled and bumped into everyone, and was certain that if Viktor wasn’t holding his hand tightly he would’ve been at the bottom of the stampede.
Finally, they were inside the seemingly empty change rooms and Viktor finally let go of Ron’s hand and turned towards him. Ron was pretty sure that since he had first met him in his fourth year at Hogwarts, and during these years before while following his Quidditch career, he had never seen Viktor so furious. Any violent or strong emotion was unlikely when it came to him, but anger such as this was definitely a first.
“What’s wrong?” Ron asked finally, shifting nervously under Viktor’s steel gaze. From what he could see, Viktor was at least not hurt in any major way and felt a feeling a relief washing over him.
“Vat’s vrong?” Viktor barked. “I’ll tell you vat’s vrong! I’m the Seeker! I am!”
“Are you hurt?” Ron asked unsurely, not really understanding the situation at all anymore.
“The game vent on for seven hours. France had three players left on the field. It vas ridiculous!” Ron nodded unsurely and stifled the urge to point out that it wasn’t uncommon. Bulgaria’s team really knew how to reduce the opposite team to only a few players in the minimum amount of fouls, though Viktor denied that it was an agreed-on tactic. “It vas starting to seem that vi vould vin by default because they vould soon run out of players. Their Seeker vas injured, and the game vouldn’t end until I caught the Snitch. Do you see?”
“Um…” Ron shook his head slowly. Was there something there to see?
“And then stupid Rokolnikov decides it vould be ok for him to catch the Snitch and not vait for me to do it. Do you know vat that means?”
“Snitchnip,” Ron replied automatically. It was one of the most famous penalties because it was so uncommon whenever it happened it was considered a big deal. Usually, considering the singular skill a Seeker had to possess, it was by accident. “So you got a penalty?”
“No!” Viktor shrugged out of his robes and glared at Ron again. “Ve von. France decided that since it vas very unlikely for them to score enough points to possibly beat us by the time I vould’ve caught it, to give us the victory and count it as legitimate They didn’t vant to sacrifice the players that still could play.”
Ron stared at him in confusion as Viktor started to undress slowly, taking off his gloves and pads and throwing them on the bench angrily one-by-one.
“But you won?” he asked finally.
“I vas made a fool out of!” Viktor shouted and punched the wall lightly. Ron jumped in surprise. He knew Viktor well enough to know that the rare occasions that he got angry, he got very angry and then wore himself down.
“I got your letter, though,” Ron said after a long silence during which Viktor stared at the wall. “It said emergency. I got here as fast as I could.”
“Thank you,” Viktor mumbled.
“Um, yeah, of course. But what was the emergency?”
Viktor turned to him with a deadly look in his eyes and Ron swallowed. Angry Viktor Krum was a scary sight indeed, though Ron wouldn’t admit it was an equally hot sight, too. There was a power that Viktor exhibited that Ron was drawn to, and it was more evident still when he was angry.
“This was the emergency!” Viktor snapped. “Vas that not evident?”
Ron stared at his boyfriend for a few moments, flabbergasted, and then groaned and buried his face in his hands.
“Viktor, do you realize what I do for a living?”
“Yes,” Viktor replied blandly, turning away. “Vy?”
“I’m in charge of the Hit Wizards department, that’s vy. We’re in charge of catching the darkest, most dangerous wizards and witches out there! I just rushed out of my office like a loon, abandoned my job and came running here because you wanted to tell me about a Snitchnip that happened during your game?!”
“Yes.” Ron looked up to see Viktor almost completely undressed – his Quidditch trousers unbuttoned and the only thing still on – and staring at him without any hint of an understanding. “I vas very angry.”
“Yes, but that kind of stuff can wait until dinner!” Ron raged, shaking his head and turning away before Viktor could see him blushing furiously. Ron had never actually seen Viktor naked or even partially so – they hadn’t slept together yet – and the sight was making him forget the point of his own anger. “You can’t just put a job like mine on hold with every little reason. Or any reason that is not actually an emergency!” he added quickly when Viktor scowled.
“Vat is the big deal, Ron?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as if actually trying to understand and not grasping.
“I thought you were hurt! I was worried sick about you!” Ron snapped.
Ron turned on his heels and stomped out. There was a selfishness about Viktor that intrigued him and he absolutely couldn’t stand at the same time. It seemed hard for Viktor to understand that Ron had something better in his life than him. Well, ok, maybe not better, but other. Every time Ron brought up his job or his friends Viktor carried a look for just a quarter of a second as if he’d completely forgotten that Ron even had a job and friends. It was as if he thought Ron didn’t exist outside the time they were together.
He had taken precisely five steps when he was swept up from behind and dragged under a bleacher. The next thing he knew, he was pinned to the wall, pressed in by Viktor’s strong body, with his hands pinned upside his head and Viktor’s face inches away from him. Viktor, as Ron could plainly see, did not bother to put anything on aside what he happened to be wearing, and Ron thanked Merlin inwardly that there were no people right outside the change room to spot them.
Ron tried to move but to no avail. When they kissed goodbye every night after a date, Ron was amazed of how tightly Viktor held him and how strong he was, but he had never seen the full force of it until now. He shifted awkwardly under the weight and Viktor tightened his grip on Ron’s wrists, causing him to gasp softly.
Ron was fully aware that his knees would be buckling under him at the other man’s proximity and strength if he wasn’t completely pinned to the wall. How anyone could retain any anger when Viktor Krum was doing something like that to them, Ron thought bitterly, was a wonder. The other’s knee had come in between his legs and spread them non-too-gently, and Ron whimpered when it pressed into his fast-growing erection.
Ron looked up into Viktor’s face and realized that he was looking at him strangely. To be precise, Ron had never seen Viktor look at him like that before, and it made him strangely excited. His eyes were studying his face with a look of surprise and tenderness Ron was shocked Viktor was even capable of.
“You… You vere vorried? Vorried about me?”
There was so little belief in his voice Ron frowned. “You thought I didn’t care about you? Have I ever given you a reason to doubhrmm –”
The last words were lost in Viktor’s mouth as he lunged at him, not letting go of his wrists. The kiss was rough and possessive, and Ron heard himself moan into Viktor’s mouth when their tongues met. Suddenly, Ron felt the biting wind on his bareskin and his right hand fell helplessly on Viktor’s shoulder, because he was clawing under his shirt, undoing Ron’s robes and trying to rid him of them quickly. Ron tried to catch Viktor’s hand and still it, but Viktor swapped it away as if it was an annoying insect and continued, moving his mouth down to Ron’s neck and sinking in his teeth, slowly sucking in the flesh.
“Viktor - aah bloody hell – stop. It’s… It’s freezing and we’re outsiideeehaahh. They’re going to… going to see us.”
“I’ll make you varm in no time,” Viktor growled. “And if they vant to vatch, let them.”
Ron glanced sideways with the last string of logical thought that remained to him. They were under the bleachers, not quite obviously there, but all the people walking back and forth had to do was to look sideways at the right time. There weren’t many people left on the field now, but there were enough for Ron to tingle all over with an unfamiliar excited anticipation. He knew he would be mortified if someone was to see them – especially a reporter – but somehow that fear excited him.
He nearly screamed out and came when he suddenly felt Viktor’s hand wrap around his naked erection. Merlin only knew how Viktor managed to be as stealthy as getting into Ron’s knickers without him noticing, but when he slowly started to move his hand up and down, Ron couldn’t care less anymore. After fumbling with his robes for another second or two Viktor cursed quietly, produced his wand and muttered something.
If Ron wasn’t still partly pinned to the wall and allowed only minimal movement, he would’ve been desperately trying to cover himself because he discovered, to his horror, that he was completely naked. Viktor was looking into his face hard and tightened the grip yet again when Ron attempted to free himself. Their naked chests were pressing together – though Viktor was still wearing trousers – and Ron realized that he wasn’t freezing at all, and Viktor must have put some sort of warming charm on the area around them.
“Don’t struggle,” Viktor said with a satisfied smile. “You’ve got nothing to hide. You’re beautiful.”
Ron gave up with a sigh and Viktor’s mouth went back to his neck and travelled slowly down to his collar bone, causing Ron to throw his head back and moan quietly. If he knew getting up in the morning that he would be naked just a few hours later outside in the middle of a Quidditch field on the verge of probably having sex with his boyfriend for the first time, he would not have believed it. He always thought Viktor would be on the less adventurous and crazy side when it came to sex – which suited him just fine – but could now see that he was deeply mistaken. He should’ve known that a person like Viktor Krum, who was used to getting everything he wanted since a young age, made no exceptions to the rule. He took what he wanted when he wanted it. It was as simple as that.
Ron had often times found himself wondering what their first time would be like. After Hermione, he had only had a couple of boyfriends, and one of them was more of a fling than anything else. With Viktor, it was very proper. Hermione joked that it was almost as if Ron was being courted. Viktor asked him out to dinner and took him to operas. He walked Ron to his flat and always said goodnight outside, never asking to come upstairs, though eventually all Ron wished was for him to do so. Sometimes they would snog outside Ron’s door for hours, but eventually Viktor would excuse himself and Apparate home and Ron would be left standing outside – excited, horny and disappointed. It seemed to him sometimes that Viktor was following some kind of script. Like all of their dates and even all their time after was carefully planned out.
Viktor did everything with complete control, but now all his control seemed to have vanished into thin air. His hand had let go of Ron’s wrist and was exploring his body – tweaking a nipple, squeezing his bicep, and stroking his arse, while the other continued its rhythmic pumping. Ron was writhing now and moaning loudly, finding it hard to care whether anybody could hear them or not. His own hands tried to touch Viktor everywhere he could reach and tried to get into his trousers.
Their lips met again, and this time Ron was the desperate one, and Viktor was teasing. He would pull away every time Ron got into the kiss, making Ron whimper and groan in frustration and struggle to catch Viktor’s lips with his own again. Suddenly, Viktor disappeared from in front of him, dropping to his knees, making Ron almost fall forward due to unexpected lack of pressure.
His mind was only beginning to grasp what Viktor was planning on doing when Viktor’s lips were inches away, his lips moving with no words coming out, and Ron gasped when his lover’s hot breath washed over his member. But he was waiting, holding Ron’s hips in a tight grip to prevent him from pushing forward. Ron was trembling like a leaf now, moaning in anticipation.
“I vant you to say it again,” Viktor said suddenly, his lips moving against the tip of the head.
“What?” Ron gasped. Anything. Everything. He would sell his own mother at the moment.
“That you care about me. That you vere vorried.”
Ron looked down in surprise. Viktor was smirking, but there was a hint of weakness behind his eyes. It was as if he didn’t actually believe Ron’s words. Ron set his face quickly, knowing that any sign of pity or hesitation on his part could ruin everything, and smiled.
“Of course I care about you,” he said seriously. “I’ve only known I’m into blokes since a couple of years ago, but I think I had a crush on you since I was an adolescent regardless. To actually go out with you…” He couldn’t formulate his thoughts too well, but he did know one thing without a shadow of a doubt. He meant it. “I care a lot about you, Viktor.”
He was glad Viktor gave him a chance to say that, because when Ron felt the other’s lips close around the head of his cock, he forgot his own name. Viktor’s lips were skillful and he was moving fast but rhythmically, exactly how Ron loved it, though he could not imagine how Viktor had come to know that. Viktor’s hands were stroking Ron’s legs and coming to grasp his arse tightly, keeping Ron still and at his mercy. Ron’s own hands started in Viktor’s hair and quickly found their way into his own – pulling, tugging, gripping. His head was thrown back and he pressed himself into the wall as hard as he could manage for fear of keeling over, trying to push his cock out towards Viktor.
“I’m close,” Ron heard himself whisper and his body had begun to shake. He was certain he had never been so turned on in his entire life, and could feel an intense orgasm coming on and just prayed that Viktor would be fast enough to catch him when he collapsed.
At a lightning speed, it seemed, Viktor’s face was in front of him again, his lips replaced by his hand, and the change in pressure pushed Ron over the edge. He arched his body into Viktor and felt his balls tighten painfully for a quarter of a second before releasing violently. His cock was throbbing in Viktor’s never-ceasing hand, and he was cumming, cumming, cumming into blackness…
He was certain he had passed out, though not for long, because when he came to his body was still shaking in spasms, and he was held tightly in Viktor’s strong arms. He wasn’t leaning on the wall anymore, rather leaning on Viktor, who held him up easily. He tried to will his body to stop shaking like a leaf, but it was to no avail. He was overwhelmed with emotion and desperately wanting to return the favor, if only he could find the feeling in his limbs again.
“Viktor.” His voice came out guttural and he could barely recognize it. He tried to straighten up, but the other wouldn’t loosen his grip. Viktor leaned back slightly and looked into Ron’s face.
“Um, wow,” was all Ron could think of saying and immediately felt himself blush at his own lack of eloquence. In truth, he was beginning to feel silly. There he was, trembling like an adolescent. He had no doubt Viktor must have thought it was his first orgasm.
But one look at Viktor assured him that he seemed to have been enjoying Ron’s weakness. Not in a cruel powerful way Ron almost envisioned he would, but with startling tenderness. His hands were lightly running over his body, comforting, soothing, and he was looking at Ron’s face with a small smile as if he had never seen it before.
“I know vat you must think of me,” Viktor said suddenly, running his thumb gently down the side of Ron’s face. “I haven’t been a very good boyfriend to you.”
“No! That’s not –”
“I know,” Viktor insisted, “because it’s vat I do. You don’t know how many men and women I’ve been vith and vat happened. The newspapers maybe caught half of my romantic endeavors, if that.” He frowned and shook his head. “I can’t count how many I’ve been vith, but I can count how many have been genuine, and it’s a small number. The newspapers alvays say such trash like I’m promiscuous and a player, but it’s just so few vant me for me. And most can’t even stand me for me vhen they get down to it.”
Ron swallowed. He should’ve figured, considering the life Viktor led, that it was extremely tough, being so famous and so wanted, to seed out those who didn’t care about the fame, and he kind of knew how he felt. Of course Ron, unlike Harry, never had a very big problem with that kind of thing, but it was a factor all the same.
“I vas certain you despised me right until you sent me that ridiculous owl who broke everything in my house before I could get it out of the vindow vith my response. I never really thought about you much before, but I thought vhy not? You didn’t seem like someone craving my spotlight, and you had your own.” Viktor shifted and his hand was suddenly gripping Ron’s, hard. “But I’ve grown to care so much for you I found myself afraid that I vould inevitably lose you like everyone else, so I tried not to get attached.”
He sighed and Ron felt another rush of emotions. He knew what it was, and he knew he wasn’t ready to voice it quite yet, but the fact that there was a side of Viktor Krum that was so very unlike anything Ron had ever associated with him made something inside him clench painfully. He almost felt guilty for thinking Viktor selfish and uncaring without a reason. He should have known – his mother had surely said it often enough – that it were indeed people who put up the highest walls who were most afraid and most vulnerable behind them. Sometimes he hated the fact that he completely lacked the intuition that Hermione was so apt at, though he wasn’t sure whether it was strictly a woman thing.
“You’re shaking still.” Viktor brought Ron close again and Ron felt the tug of side-Apparition before he could even brace himself. They landed in a bedroom Ron had never seen before – lavishly decorated with mostly wood and some marble and mostly earthy tones. “This is my home. I have vanted to bring you here a long time.”
Ron would’ve went off exploring immediately if Viktor wasn’t guiding him to the bed, almost lifting him into it, and pulling a blanket over them both, bringing him close again. Ron was pressing himself into Viktor, kissing his neck and chest lightly, making Viktor smile in a different way than usual. He knew he would smile that way just for him – only for him.
“I feel obliged to varn you,” Viktor said, bringing himself above Ron and taking off his own trousers and knickers with a wave of the wand and making Ron moan again when their cocks touched, “that I heard a camera click and I think ve might have been photographed by that Daily Prophet reporter that’s been stalking me the whole day.”
Ron froze and was about to reach for his wand and Avada Kedavra himself when a thought hit him. Everything that had to do with Quidditch and its players went through the Head Quidditch correspondent in the Daily Prophet before making it into the newspaper, being responsible for compiling the sports pages. Ron grinned and kissed Viktor passionately. It would serve Ginny right.